Breaking through Time
by Loominginmoonlight
Summary: The end of the world had destroyed the future, all due to events not existing. Charlie Parks becomes enlisted to be a part of picking up the pieces of her broken world. The catch is she has to go back in time to make sure Dan and Phil meet and make videos together. This act will save her family, but they will never even know she existed. But they sent her to the wrong year...
1. Chapter 1

Preview  
Diary entry number one March 3rd, 2016

Dear Diary,  
I hate to have to write to a blank book because there simply isn't anyone left. It's not their fault, really it's not. In fact most of them just faded against their will. It wasn't as messy as when the crazy ones just killed the nearest people, but it still was terrifying witnessing it. I still don't understand why any of this is happening, all I do know is that I literally truely am alone. My few friends, not very close really, faded but my parents were killed right in front of me. My mom stayed alive long enough to shove me out the door as a fader was killing my dad. Their screams still haunted my nightmares a year later. They were blood curdling at best but on worse nights I could actually see the horrifying images flying through my head. They were the last people to be ripped from me and I honestly haven't gotten close to anyone since.  
Didn't have much of a choice, the world is a ghost planet. Opportunities of running into other human beings are few and far in-between. This wasn't that big a deal in my book. Too many people are awful to be around and cause this pressure in my chest, one where you can't breathe even if there is really nothing wrong with you. The planet looks just wrong, so dead with no one to keep everything going. I was looking for an any possible canned things to eat. You can't get picky when there's nothing else. You can see the television from where I'm siting right now diary, I wonder what was the last thing that was playing on it before it stopped working? ...  
I have now decided diary that I am going to write this almost like a novel because that's the only way to truely get the whole experience. Because what just happened just proves to me that things are going to get quite interesting at the very least.  
Basically diary the unthinkable just happened! The television actually turned on! Who actually knew there was enough electricity for that to work anymore? They must have hacked into the TV's from somewhere else. I'm not going to lie to you diary I almost crapped myself at a shocking velocity at the sudden noise. It's been much too long since I've actually heard or seen a TV on. A rather undignified shriek also ripped rather painfully from my throat. When you don't talk to people for a year your voice really doesn't get any use. I mean sometimes I sing to myself the old lullabies my mom used to sing all the time. It helps to lessen the pain, but only slightly.  
The TV was just repeating the same message over and over. It was just too good to be true.  
"The future was never meant to be this way! We know what went wrong and YOU can help us put things right!" the rest just kept an address on the screen. It had to be where their place was. My eyebrows crinkled together, my lower lip being abused by my teeth. I have no idea if this is legitimate or a ploy to murder more people. But what do I honestly have to lose? I chuckle darkly to myself at that question, as I have said like three times now I literally don't have anything more to my name than the clothes on my back and my diary. Yes you know what? I am so going through with heading to the address on screen. If anything I wanted to go just to know what the hell happened to cause everything to go to hell like it did. But knowing me I was most probably going to join these people with whatever they threw at me so that I could say I did something to help stop or change the whole apocalypse happening. Yes you know what diary this is the best idea your nonexistent brain has convinced me to do. Huh I really need to stop talking to a diary, it's making me crazier than I already am.  
Charlie out!


	2. Chapter 2

The world has gone to hell and yet I'm still here. That's got to say something about perseverance right? No, I didn't think so; it just shows my stubbornness goes to epic lengths and proportions to outdo itself. How often does one get to say that they survived the end of the world because of sheer stubbornness? Now, not very many people at all.

You remember that old song that used to play all the time? Where the lyrics stated, "It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine" it's actually true for the most part, for I do feel fine. Not in the good way, no that would just be lying and that's not the point I'm trying to make. When you are alone long enough, you get to the point where you just feel fine. It's almost a sort of empty feeling, yet extremely selfish (at least that's what I've been telling myself) because you are pushing away your pain instead of coming to terms with your losses. Ignoring the fact that everything you once held near and dear were ripped viciously from you.

There were so many dead, so many gone. You may think those are the same terms but no, there is a massive difference in this universe. We call the ones that are simply gone faders. Got at least have a badass name for the thing that's trying to kill you. They just faded from existence right before your very eyes. I don't know which would classify as worse, but both were traumatizing for the one person closest to the fader. I know how it feels for my immediate family is all dead, they were killed by a fader while he was going through the insanity of his fade.

Faders go through phases before they become completely gone. They consist of amnesia, loss of basic motor skills, insanity and violence, until finally the actual fade itself. There really is no stopping them when they get violent, the only possible thing you can do is run, and hope that they catch someone else besides you. I know sacrificing someone else to save yourself so selfish blah blah blah, but you eventually just go to certain ends to keep yourself alive when there are no other options.

My name is Charlie Parks, and I am totally completely alone. Normalcy? Gone, like my family. They didn't last long at all, for they trusted way too much. They wanted to help the raving lunatic that was about to kill them and they got too close. I was too far away to help them, their deaths are my fault and I will forever suffer under that knowledge that I let them down. Everyone else fading I couldn't claim as my fault because I don't even know why or even how it happens. I just know the signs and when to get moving. I liked being alone, I tried the whole partner thing in surviving the end of the world but that has failed rather spectacularly in both attempts.

It's also a strange feeling being alone. You realize just how lonely one can get when there is no one left. But the pain of losing someone is much worse than the pain of loneliness, so it is quite obvious that I chose the lonely rout instead of even more emotional trauma than the amount I've been given. Little did I know, I didn't really have a choice in the matter at all.

They had found out the reason behind the fadings. It was the weirdest thing, people who should have seemed insignificant in the long run never put in their mark to the world. Some actors never became famous, some youtubers never made videos, and some never got together or even met. There were so many influential people in the history of the internet, it actually seems believable that them not making their mark upon the permanence that is the internet could cause a disrupt in time or whatever this is called. What even happened to cause absolutely all of them to stray off of their path? I even recognized many of these people.

They have been calling in for people to help them clean up the mess, why not give it a go it's not like I have anything left to lose in this world. Least that's to paraphrase their message of wanting people with no connections left to volunteer. Wow, pathetic honestly it's like if I mope long enough I can classify as one of those old emo kids on myspace. Since the abundance of people in past years have dwindled to minimal numbers, the streets that would have been packed three years ago was so empty that the term ghost town almost wasn't enough to describe it.

All the buildings were dark, grungy, and dreary. Doors were jammed shut after others barricading themselves from faded. Other humans were few and far between, and no one wanted to chance any bad interactions with a possible fader so everyone tended to keep to themselves. It's surprising how close the building was from my place of hiding, really it was only about five blocks. It was a small building in retrospect with the older office buildings. It almost looked like they decided to morph the old DMV into a building that they could use for their purposes. In fact it actually was the DMV, the letters ripped off the side of the building leaving only a weathered ghost of their presence in the brick.

Apparently their waiting time is exactly like in a DMV. Long, boring, and absolutely no reason for it to be lasting this long. Seriously there were no other people here! Maybe five others at the absolute most were in here! Ah well, it certainly gave me enough time to observe my surroundings. The few people in here that weren't mulling about like I was were filling in paperwork. I was too far away to see just how much they were being made to fill out, but I really didn't want to know. It might just put me off from going through with this in the first place.

Twenty and a half million years later, they called me up to the counter. "Please fill out this paperwork." Jesus Christ is this paperwork or a freaking novel? I struggled to carry it all to a nearby seat really just wondering how they had enough electricity to print this many pages. Many of these questions were easy. Hair color, red (dyed), eye color, green, height, 5'6. Yes I would sure hope I was Caucasian or else my vampire skin would be some genetic anomaly that you would most likely want to study. Or poke and prod with needles, god I hate needles.

Then the questions became subtly more personal. Have you ever moved as a child, how many people are in your family, how often do you share information with strangers… are they for real? Favorite television shows why on earth do they want to know that? Is this a dating profile or was this paperwork to fix my reality? These questions were getting absolutely ridiculous the further on I went, even asking some that I wouldn't feel comfortable with if my mom asked me. Once absolutely every bit of paper was filled out, I felt like keeling over and taking a well-deserved nap.

Once every little tiny bit of paper had every bit of my life on it, and then some that I didn't even know how to answer, I was made to hand over the filled in novel and once again sit back down in the really uncomfortable chair for a few more million years to come. I'm pretty sure I had become a fossil before they called my name to finally see where the heck this was going.

The receptionist had me follow a tired looking man into a secluded room to go over the paperwork in case I missed anything… great. He looked to be about in his late forties, but with huge age lines and a lot of gray hair taking over his head. Obviously the times have not been kind to him the past few years. Once he had me sat down in a rather surprisingly comfy chair the onslaught of questioning began.

"You stated on here that you have no family or friends left, is this true?" well that's a rather rude way to start.

"Not exactly something I would lie about, especially seeing as I witnessed most of their murders and fadings." I snap. I don't think snapping at them was exactly smart but when was I ever known for being a good social person?

"Alright just making absolutly sure, already you are a prime candidate to help." I don't think he was trying to be insulting by the way he was raising his hands as if I were a wild animal, but still I didn't like him much.

"So prime candidate, what exactly am I going to be doing?" This honestly had to be the most legitimate question, for I had no idea on what my job would be.

"We are going to be assigning you two people who never made youtube videos together. They never met and one therefore never made videos himself. Millions of lives perished one by one after getting triggered by the event of the first getting hit by a bus. Just glancing over your sheet we already got the match for you. Being paired with them, will also heal you from your own emotional traumas and give you a new life to live."

"Right like I totally need healing." I have no idea if he caught on to the sarcasm, "Now come on who is it that has to suffer my presence?"

Tired man gave me a reproachful look before reading from his list, "Daniel James Howell and Phillip Michael Lester are your assignments. Already you have a hard job because you have two people to watch over, though you will get practice with one before needing to handle both of them."

I am so confused, how am I going to be watching them and helping them? Dan and Phil got together back in 2009 any fan would know that for a fact and it being 2017 now doesn't add the puzzle pieces together. "How exactly am I going to be with Dan and Phil? If you haven't noticed it has been many, many years since the time when they were fist supposed to be introduced to each other. " I then recalled something he said before, "Wait Phil got hit by a bus?!"

"Good on you for noticing that." Is he being sarcastic? He is being a sarcastic little twat! Oh I think I might actually have the chance of getting along better with him now. "We have figured out a way to send you back to a younger version of your body but being able to keep your mind as it is right now."

My eyebrows rose in surprise, whatever answer I was expecting him to give me, that certainly wasn't it. "Ok that sounds like bogus science fiction crap. How do you honestly expect me to believe that this is going to work?" This honestly was pissing me off, did they really think I was going to fall for this? I have been through way too much to blindly follow whatever anyone that even remotely looks like authority says to me.

He seems surprised at my outburst, I had been falsely calm before and now he was seeing the consequences. I need answers and I need them now.

"Alright, it will be much too difficult to explain to you right in this very moment but if you just follow me." He left his sentence hanging, luring me in to just follow him and see the wonders behind the magic screen.

The machine he led me to certainly was a strange looking one. Well strange because it looks like they took an MRI machine and added onto it. Really just a bunch of bits and bobs that shouldn't be there in the first place are stuck onto it. "This is your wondrous machine meant to send me into the past? Oy vey!"

He scowled at the slight against his glorified MRI machine. "We can prove that it actually works you know." He reached inside of the only opening to the thing and pulled out a bit of paper… with my handwriting on it. He clears his throat and states in a smug tone, "'My first pet was a guinea pig named Fosie Bear, I love British shows and my two favorite youtubers are Dan and Phil, and no one knows about my absolute love for balsamic vinegar-' vinegar are you actually kidding me?" I can only stare, stunned that he even has that information. I haven't told anybody that last scrap of information since my best friend passed.

He looks so pleased with himself, the little toe-rag. "How the hell did you get this? Any of this!" My voice was shaking, trembling with rage. I didn't like when people knew too much about me, if they know everything about you then you have no defense to stand behind in case they were a bad egg.

"Because you will write it in about five minutes, and I will send it back."

"Oh when you put it that way! Sure! Why not?! I'll play right into this insanity I mean the world has gone to crap but I'm here playing pretend with a bunch of Bill Nye wannabee's!" Yep called it, full freak out mode has commenced. Although my freak out was short lived as he lifted a syringe and said cooly, "We will sedate you if you force us too. Are you going to calm down Ms. Parks?" I glare at him but forcefully nod. There is no way in hell I am being sedated and being left to their devises.

"Good, now this is the plan." He states like he didn't just threaten to sedate me, "The reason we make sure you have no loved ones left, to put it frank, is to make sure there will be no one who will miss you. We only have the tech to send you there, but not bring you back."

I stare open mouthed, this is so much more than they were saying it would be in the call to action. "Gee thanks glad to know my lack of important people to my life is so necessary for you." Ever find yourself in an uncomfortable situation? Use sarcasm! Not only will it make you look like someone who never takes things seriously, but it will also make the person you are talking to want to leave! You get two for the price of one, kiddos.

"Anyway, we are going to be sending you back to about 2004 when you should have been six years old. Before Phil starts his channel, we need you to infiltrate and befriend him. Get close enough to become influential, but not taking the "best friend" spot, that needs to be reserved for Dan. You are going to have to get Phil to notice Dan's excessive stalker tweets and have them both start filming like they were supposed to."

"Okay let me get this straight, you are essentially ripping me from my timeline, planting me in theirs, and through this process I will never be able to come home and see my family again even though they will be alive."

"Yes that would be correct!" Why does he sound so happy upon hearing my pain? Are they all just sadists? This sacrifice would bring everyone I love back, but they would be living without me. Which is better me living in absolute misery and them still being dead, or them being able to live the rest of their days happily and without me? I'm not cruel, if it means that I get to save them, then this is a sacrifice I am willing to make for my family.

I let out a shuddering breath, and nodded resigning myself to my fate. "Good now since we plan for you to be going back to 2009 we won't need you to be younger, it is actually imperative that you are still twenty in order to be able to click with Phil. Also write out that note for me."

"If this was the case why did you even mention that it could send me back to my younger body? It doesn't seem like information that's that important for my circumstances." I ask while scribbling the note and shoving it into his hand. He only glanced at a technician before avoiding meeting my gaze. Well! So glad I agreed to this shit! That's just Awesome! With awesome capitalized for emphasis!

Yep, I am definitely regretting this decision the longer I stay in here. Being shut into their machine of death is not helping with my claustrophobia. My breathing exercises start to shake as I lose focus on calming my heartbeat. Suddenly the hatch opened and he handed down a piece of paper.

"This paper will help you in any situation you may fall into." The piece of paper is… absolutely blank.

"Are you actually kidding me? Are you pulling my leg?" I am now very doubtful that this is real, they are a bunch of creepy people that are about to kill me.

"This is the twenty first century, just trust the letter." Oh my god I am dead I am going to die. What have I done? What on earth have I done?

Before I could verbally react, he slams the hatch shut and I can hear his muffled voice order for the machine to be started up. "No wait!"

But it was too late. Something was happening and it was happening very fast. Everything was suddenly lit up, the inside of the machine now kind of looked like a bad tanning bed. I shrieked at the sudden blinding white light that was filling my vision.

That was when the pain began for real, it felt as if my head was being ripped away from my body and exploding at the same time. The agony was ripping through me! God the pain was too much!

I am pretty sure my screams could be heard from Ipswich because I could taste the blood in my throat. I was screaming myself raw and still it wasn't ending. With one last ripping tear of agony, everything went black.


	3. Chapter 3

The lights passing over my eyes were much too bright, but I physically wasn't capable of moving my body away from them. I tried twitching a finger, but the thought never fully made it down my arm. Everything was sluggish and seemed to be happening in slow motion. Have I been drugged? Did those insane people drug me and take me somewhere for experimentation?

Slowly coming to, I realize I can feel the vibrations one only feels when in a car; yes I remember this feeling even though it has been a few years. Why was I in a car? No one uses cars anymore because there was no way to power them. So that could only lead to one conclusion… did it actually work? Yet that only brings hundreds of more questions in my head. Why am I in a car? Who is driving the car? Am I actually in 2004? Where am I? And finally, what is going to happen to me now?

As I am starting to wake up more and more I start to realize that something was very incredibly wrong. My head was much lighter than I was used to, and my feet couldn't touch the floor. I know I am tall enough to touch the floor with my feet I used to be able to drive for god's sake! I am now forcing myself to struggle through the imposed drowsiness to wake up, I had to wake up.

Nothing was in focus, the lights were still much too bright! It's making me nauseous just trying to look at the blurry surroundings around me. I was struggling with effort just to be able to raise my head.

I was in the backseat of a car I know that for sure. It was an old car as well, much too old for me to recognize what year it's from.

"Oh you're awake!" The male voice from the driver's seat said much too happily for how I feel at the moment. "Are you ready to meet your new family sweet heart?" This voice was female and coming from the passenger seat. Wait a minute what the hell does she mean by new family?! I look out of the windows and I have no idea where I am. It's not even America! Holy fuck!

May be wondering how exactly I know this, but one kind of tends to notice when the cars are on the wrong side of the road. Thankfully I didn't vocalize any of my thoughts. But that is when I noticed exactly what I looked like in the reflection via the window. I was no longer twenty years old, no not even close. I look exactly as I did when I was six years old! What the ever living hell is going on? Wait, no hold on, not exactly as I did when I was six. I still had my red hair from before, which doesn't make any sense at all. I had honey ish brown hair as a child and only started dyeing it when I was about fourteen.

I was too busy having my inner melt down to notice the car slowing down. I did happen notice when it came to a complete stop and god I am not ready; I don't know what's about to happen to me seeing as I don't know if it is the year where I actually was six years old or some other time.

I took this moment to think about just how royally bad they screwed up with their time traveling machine. My surroundings are leading me to think that I was not in 2004 when I was actually six. Now I am just going to be placed in some people's home and I don't have a freaking clue as to how I am going to fix this. Seriously I am pretty much screwed and can only hope to God that SOMETHING goes right in this fiasco.

My car door that faces the curb opens and the woman's hand reaches for me.

"Come along dear, they're waiting for you." She tried to say this in a happy go lucky voice but just sounded like she wanted to get this over with and go home. Well thanks lady but if you can't see there are many things that are not okay with this situation! In a round of defiance that I can pull as a six year old I refuse to take her hand and hop out of the car by myself. That's right people ooh Charlie is such a little rebel! Insert the sound effect of air horns in the background.

The house is horrific, an absolute nightmare and looks like a horror movie set. The house being two stories doesn't help at all. I stumble when the woman pushes me forward because I wasn't moving as fast as she wanted. So tempted, I was so tempted to tell her to fuck off but that would have been the worst possible thing to say at this very moment. Instead I sent her the coldest death stare I could and was marched to the door of the nightmare house.

Only when the door opens do I realize just how small I actually am. I am a tiny little girl and these other humans are friggen gimormous! Wow Charlie how very articulate.

"Hello you finally made it!" the woman beside the man who opened the door squealed. I stare completely flabbergasted at who was at the door. I have seen enough videos and pictures in the past to definitely recognize the face of Phil's mum. The man at her side I can only assume it Phil's dad, I've only seen in in one video so his face is harder to recognize. This is so weird I don't even know how many times I mentally mentioned this fact because this was really freaking weird!

She looks so much younger, yet still exactly the same as the videos and I am mentally fangirling just over this one woman. All simply because she is the mother to one of the best people I have ever looked up to. I could see the resemblance older Phil had with his father, just looking at his face sent me into a startled awe. God I really am absolutely hopeless. I wonder what Phil and Martyn look like? I have no idea what year it is so that could be a very large range of possible ages.

The social worker and I are ushered inside the house and I and made to sit on a couch. I now only have more questions to add to my inner monologue. Why are Mr. and Mrs. Lester adopting a child? How did the bloody social worker have any information on me? Is this what they meant on trust the letter?

The couch was very squishy and almost enveloped me as soon as I sat down. I don't like it very much, I much prefer slightly stiffer couches that can actually support my body and not try to suffocate it. And so the inevitable wriggling and shuffling to find a comfy position has begun. It started out small so that hopefully they didn't notice too much. Unfortunately I could feel someone's eyes on me; I whip towards the feeling only to see two boys on the stairs trying to stay out of view from the adults in the room.

Phil's mum saw my frantic head whip and looked up to see her sons as well. "Oh good Martyn, Phillip come down." No don't do that! What the hell woman I can barely handle the fact that I have three of you in the room with me let alone five! Oh my god Phil, such nostalgia! Little Phil was such a ginger! It's definitely strange to see him without his black as night locks. Wait… with my new hair colour you would never think first off that I was adopted by this family. This is so surreal.

Martyn is something else though. I really have only seen a couple of pictures of him and even then it was a long long time ago. I don't know any of his behavior types except that he really likes to troll Phil. I turn when they say my name.

"Her name as of a few minutes ago was Charlotte Smith." Smith are you freaking kidding me? Smith? What were my parents named John and Jane as well? Oh, apparently they were… wow so creative. Ugh my clothes are so girlie! I mean pink is absolutely everywhere, everywhere! On the shirt, the skirt, the freaking shoes even had pink on them. What made it so much worse was there were Barbies on the sides of the shoes. They need to die and be burned with fire.

"Will you be changing her last name to yours?" At this they didn't look so sure and hesitated. The social worker turned towards me for the first time in like twenty minutes and asked, "Do you want to have their last name?" I cocked my head to the side until I finally nodded, it's not like I wanted the last name Smith. The Lester's visibly relaxed with relief at my confirmation. It's strange, why would they care? I surely don't matter that much to people who have only just met me? But, the way they smile at me… seems like the most genuine thing I've ever seen. I think I'm gonna like it here.

Mrs. Lester turned to her sons, "Could you take Charlotte outside dears? Play for a bit while we finish up here." They nod and start to walk off, leaving me to follow them. Phil looks to be around ten years old, Martyn somewhere round 15. Their backyard at least didn't have a horror movie eques vibe to it, it was actually pretty nice and had loads of room for running. Speaking of running I haven't felt this good in years, my joints were on the verge of collapse by the time I was 16 from the years of abuse I had put them through. At this moment they were like new, no creaking or ceasing of motion.

We were just standing around, waiting for someone to say anything. "So what's your names?" I broke the ice, deciding they were never going to do so themselves.

"My name's Martyn, this's Phil."

"You wanna play blind man's bluff?" I ask as it's the only game I remember how to play. They glance at each other before grinning. We all decided that since Martyn was the eldest he would be the blind man first. I had the advantage of being small enough that I wouldn't make much noise unless I really wanted to, Phil was clumsy his steps snapping twigs and leaves. My best tactic was to call out before crouching down and slyly moving around the blind man's legs silently, moving cross the yard before calling out again.

Martyn was harder to fool than Phil; he kept his hands low trying to find me out in my little game, but unfortunately held no match against me when concerning a tree. He came too close too fast so I jumped, grasping the lowest branch and swinging my legs overtop of it. The moment he bonked into the tree he opened his eyes with a splutter, staring in stunned silence up at me in the branches. Phil fell to the ground he was laughing so hard, while Martyn laughed good naturedly.

Right I should've known that it wouldn't have been as easy as I thought it would be. Nope, no sunshine and rainbows here. For you see, being in a traumatic situation or experience tends to give a person PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) or just anxiety in general. It only took the first week of me screaming from nightmares and having anxiety induced panic attacks to prove that unpleasantness. And let me tell you this, those attacks? They freaking suck ass! You could be going about normally, doing nothing in particular, you could feel it coming, though you most likely won't, and it strikes like a cobra. You shut down, your vision darkens almost in a tunnel vision kind of way, you hyperventilate and sometimes even pass out from the hyperventilation, and your very mind attacks you with things you have heard people say about you and things you think about yourself. You feel a weight bearing down on your chest and you can't escape, it's impossible and you either succumb to passing out or just go along with the ride.

I swear I have to have been the biggest burden on the Lesters. I'm sure this is nothing close to what they imagined when they adopted me. Much more trouble than I'm worth, because Phil's mum always got up out of bed when I had nightmares and always tried to be around to help me when I have an attack. I just hope they don't hate me, I don't think I would be able to handle it if they hated me. Though I certainly wouldn't blame them, I'm quite used to that being a norm in my life. But how does one in a six year old body convey these kinds of fears to an adult? I suppose that is the biggest struggle of being so young physically, absolutely no one will take you seriously at all.

Speaking of which, god I can feel one coming. We were out at the market and I have been looking for Phil's mum for five minutes after I had turned round and lost her. I could feel the darkness creeping in on my vision and my breathing going ragged. I barely talked to anyone for the past month except for Martyn. He for some reason knows exactly what to do with panic attacks for while his mum was freaking out the first time it happened he managed to defuse the situation and help her out. I can tell he doesn't view me as the annoying younger sibling yet. I try to not do anything to lead either him or Phil to not like me. Growing up as an outcast you learn to never turn away the people who seem to at least tolerate your existence. I never understood why almost absolutely everyone who was of around my age or evil bitchy witches despised me. I could go on forever describing the things they've done to me over the years but that could take a whole other autobiography in itself.

Anyway back to the literal attack at hand. I am collapsed on the ground, my legs refusing to keep my relatively tiny body upright anymore. My hands I believe are clasped around my head, I can't breathe! God help me please! Everything THOSE people has said to me in the past, smashing into my brain like separate bricks all one after another. Worthless, good for nothing, fuck up, fat, everyone hates you, failure, every one of those words and more ripping at me from the inside. I could feel someone's hands on my shoulders. They were tight, much too tight, they were big hands I don't know those hands. They are starting to shake me now, that scares me and even though I have no breath I manage to have a scream of utter terror rip from my throat. No I literally have no breath and that further spurs the panic, I can't make it stop, why can't I make it stop? Now I felt much more familiar arms wrap around me, pulling me into a warm embrace. I could smell her; it was soothing to have a familiar smell around. As the darkness and cutting words were fading away, I could now hear the voices of the people around us. I could make out Martyn's voice raised in anger, is he mad at me? But I could hear Phil's mum murmuring reassuring words while rocking me. She had pulled me into her lap on the floor of the market.

Now I could hear Martyn properly, he was screaming in fury at some man who had been shaking me instead of trying to get help. My upper arms really hurt, they're throbbing badly. How hard did this guy grab me? Why did he grab me? I'm just a kid…physically I am at least shut up!

Oh dear god, I COMPLETELY forgot about this part to going back in time to a younger body. Just a little hell called school. I'm not about to have a scene about it though, there is no way in hell I am actually going to act like I'm actually six. It may seem normal for the adults but I would rather not demean myself any more than I already have to. Though I'm sure the way I behave just freaks Phil's mum and dad out more than acting out every once and a while. I don't even know how normal school even works! I've been homeschooled my whole life and never really had any friends. I certainly didn't mind that too much, I preferred to be in my fantasy lands. Speaking of which, I need to finish getting dressed for my first day of hell.

So far I just needed to put my socks on before going down for brekkies. Phil leans in through the doorway, "Charlie c'mon mum says breakfast is ready!" he pauses as he looks down at my feet that are covered in mismatched bright socks. "Don't you have any matching socks, why are they different?"

I grin, "Oh Philly, why follow the norms just because people say it's the way to behave? Do what you can to be different and original." He scrunched his face like how he always seemed to be able to do when confused. "Never mind Philly, what's… mum made for breakfast?" I'm getting better at calling their mum "mum", but it still a struggle as shown by my stumbling over the word.

Phil grins at the mention of breakfast, "She made pancakes Char pancakes!"

This actually causes me to giggle uncontrollably, Phil was far too adorable for his own good. "Race ya!" I suddenly called out and darted out of the room. Phil was so startled that he didn't react for two seconds. That was the perfect amount of head start my tiny legs needed. I thunder down the stairs as fast as I could possibly go, but crap! I can hear Phil behind me and I was not about to let him win when I had a head start! I grab the doorframe to slide round into the kitchen, barely managing to not eat the floor because I was just wearing socks. Phil wasn't so lucky as he trips and falls onto the floor. I laugh at him sprawled out on the ground, "I win!"

Martyn was already sitting at the table and raises his eyebrows. He likes to act all grownup and pretend he thinks that our shenanigans are just silly. But I can quickly get him out of that silly shell by convincing him to play with me using the most deadly weapon I can possess at six almost seven, ultimate cuteness. "Come on you two stop monkeying around you need to eat before school."

"Yeah mum." Phil said as he got up from the floor. I sit in between Martyn and Phil just dreading the time when I would be dropped off at hell on earth.

The building looms above me, and that's not just because I'm freaking tiny. The place just reeks of foreboding and ominous intentions. This looks like I'm gonna have a bad time. I see Phil's-my mum, kneel down to my height. "Be sure to try to make yourself some friends so you won't be lonely Charlie."

I turn to face her, "I don't need other friends mum, I've got Martyn and Philly."

She throws her head back in laughter. "Alright hun, just try to have fun?"

I nod, but under my breath I mutter, "Unlikely."

This has got to be the saddest classroom I have ever seen. It looked like a cell with some halfhearted butterflies taped to the white walls. Like are they supposed to be doing something to the ultimate drabness of the place? My face is pulled into one of disbelief. This is what I am going to have to sit in for the next god knows how many years? Oh look a window! I dart over to the seat by the window, if I am going to be stuck here I at least need something to daydream out of.

I have decided early on that I was going to be the oddball yet not to be noticed student, not that I had much of a choice really. I already was pretty ambidextrous before, but now I can take the time to really perfect the skill. I would start by drawing with my right hand but randomly switch to my left hand every so often. Today we were just supposed to be copying down whatever was written on the black board on our worksheets, how boring. I have already finished the worksheet twice and I am just on the brink of pulling my own hair out. I have the rest of the day that is going to be just like this and I have to suffer this fate for years.

I have a separate piece of paper in front of me. It is taunting me because I have the compulsive need to draw on it, to get rid of the blankness and add some personality to it. But I don't know what it needs. Every bit of paper is different, has a different need, a different job to fulfil. I still need to figure out what this one needs. It isn't landscape material so scrape out nature. I am narrowing down to see if it is portrait material.

I nearly jump through the roof when suddenly the teacher's assistant appeared behind my ear. It took all my willpower, all my strength, to not yell out every swear word in the book at this woman. I don't even know what the hell she said! "Uh…wha?" Nice, very intelligent Charlie, you almost said a whole word!

"I said what are you doing?" I glance at her up and down, do I really want to answer this woman?

I sigh out, "Drawing."

She looks at the paper then back at me again, "You haven't put anything on the paper sweetheart." Dear God make it stop.

"Yes the paper hasn't said what it needs yet." Oh shit.

Her eyes widen like an anime character, "The paper hasn't… _told_ you yet?" Why on earth did I open my big mouth oh my god.

"Does it look like it's saying I'm capable of being a full nature landscape? No it is something that can most likely be a portrait." I scowl at her already done with the conversation. I actually didn't think her eyes could widen any further, but it turns out I was wrong. She looked ready to call the actual teacher over here. What was my goal for school again? Oh yeah, don't collect attention to yourself, well there's that idea blown right out of the water! I turn away from her hoping that she would get the social cue called "go the fuck away". No such luck as of yet, in fact she was shifting from side to side…shit.

Inwardly I sigh, guess I'm just going to have to draw something to get her to leave me alone. I grab my pencil and curse inside my head. My hands are so clumsy, it's really rather difficult to do anything with them. Oh well let's just try this! Hmm you know what, I have an idea. Throughout the years I am just going to draw pictures of Dan and Phil over and over again and freak people out in the future. Insert evil grin here hahaha! Thank you photographic memory! Because I have no pictures of them when they are older, thank you bloody time travel. I start very lightly tracing out the shape of Dan's head, like all drawings you should start out light and only darken the lines you are sure you want to keep. Now when should this image come from? You know what I am going to do one from when he is 24 because he is really hot once he finishes second puberty.

That means I need an adam's apple, slight less of fringe, shaved bits, he is whiter here that helps with shading, and you know what I am going to add his earrings. I have now slipped into my area of expertise; the rest of the world around me has successfully faded away into nothing. Now the only things that were in focus were me, the songs in my head, and the developing image in front of me. Surprisingly, even with the ridiculously clumsy hands they aren't shaking here. Huh maybe I should have just done this earlier. Thank god he has a slightly softer jawline than others, because sharp jawlines are a pain to draw and just look silly. Yes of course it is going to be a black t-shirt, though they won't be able to see that it is sneakily the eclipse shirt he wears, there isn't enough room on the page to show the ring.

Time seemed to slow down as I was so engrossed with the image before me; it had to be just right. The eyes, one of the things that show his very personality, this is going to be slow and careful work. I only have a pencil and then an ink pen to go over the work, so I need to figure out a way to show that the eyes are brown with the things I have. Oh no, the mouth, I hate drawing mouths because they're never quite right. This is because lips really are just absolutely weird.

I feel the uncomfortable crawling down my neck and into my spine not long after this. I stiffen, and whip around; somehow the teacher, the teacher's aid, and most of the students have migrated behind me and were just staring at me as I drew. I just kind of give them a questioning glance, wordlessly trying to provoke them into talking first. That didn't seem like it was going to happen anytime soon so I drawl, "May I help you?"

The teacher started and gushed, "Oh my dear! That is positively wonderful! Where ever did you learn to draw like that?" Uncomfortable, I shrug noncommittally. "May I?" she reaches for the drawing.

"No!" I snarl and yank it out of her reach.

"Can I at least-"

"No!" I say again in a harder tone, I don't want her take the picture, it's the first image of Dan that I've seen in such a long time.

"Charlotte Lester listen to Miss Franwurt this moment!" I glare at the aid, right I know I said I was going to not attract attention to myself I know… turns out that's much more difficult said than done! I am not about to let them bully me in compliancy over something as stupid as a picture.

"I don't want to give her the picture." I ground out.

"Charlotte I know you don't want to but you must respect your teacher."

"My name's Charlie I don't like Charlotte." I ground out, I couldn't even get these assholes to say my name right.

"Charlotte, Charlie is a boy's name while you already have a nice pretty girl's name!"

Oh wonderful this is going to be an argument that I am just going to lose. "I don't care that Charlotte is a girl's name, my name is Charlie."

She wasn't about to give up though, "Charlotte she asked you for the picture, give it to her now!" Only this time, the aid looked so much more pissed than before. She herself reached for the paper. Now she was a fully grown woman to my size of maybe at most three feet… I can be three feet. As I tried to keep it from her she grabbed my arm to try and get the piece of paper. She was already causing the panic attack to rise by insisting I hand over the picture, but her grabbing me flicked the switch of the bomb.

My breathing shut down and my vision darkened instantly. My head was pounding from the sudden fear of her touching me, not just touching me but grasping my arm rather painfully. My free arm rises to cover my head, just in case she tries to hit me. Her fingers are bruising my upper arm; I feel just how crushing they are through the haze. And just like that her hand is ripped from my arm, the moment I was free I threw myself underneath the desk. It was nice and slightly dark underneath the desk. I see a couple of the other kids faces as they try to see me under the desk, so I curl my body into a tighter ball. I furiously wipe my face as I nurse my pained arm wanting everyone to just leave me alone.

Mum had to come to pick me up early; while we were walking down the corridor I could see the aid being brought into the headmaster's office behind us. She was glaring at me as we were leaving the freaking building. Fine then, I smirked and winked at the crazy woman before turning round and following mum to the car.

A/N Thank you so much to quicktosee2 for your review and encouragement. This chapter held quite a bit of editing and I'm sure I missed some areas but that's what can be fixed in the future. Reviews will help me see where I've missed things and to help me further the plot. Follow to get updates and look forward to the next chapter


	4. Chapter 4

After that one incident school was pretty boring and normal for the most part. I never saw that aid again, pretty sure she was fired… oops. I have thus learned to sit in the back for all my lessons, get the homework done immediately, then right after that I could get to my drawings. I sometimes did other people like PJ, Chris, Louise, Mark, Jack, and Ethan but only when I could remember their faces. These pictures were always just a little bit off, just slightly wrong in the face. This was never the case with Dan and Phil's older comparisons pictures. Them I could never forget the way they looked. Their pictures I did the most often and they were littered everywhere as I have run out of room in my drawers. Mum just made me a giant portfolio like folder to keep all my drawings in.

I still don't have any friends besides Phil and Martyn, the kids at school are all scared at me because of my panic attacks. I don't mind though, it's frustrating having to talk to kids my own age at the moment. They could hardly form sentences that were in any way or form intelligent, and over half of the boys do stupid things like eating bugs during recess. I particularly disliked recess, England weather was just grey and cloudy the weather I enjoyed for reading, playing the ukulele, or drawing. I was a bit of an indoorsie person, especially after spending so much time in hiding before. At first the other children ignored me, just thinking I was weird and not enough to get their attention. But the older kids have started to shove me if we walk by each other. So far it was nothing big and since no teacher would ever do anything about shoving I never said anything.

I am bored though a lot after school. I have started to play on the piano mum keeps in the lounge; it's nothing like actual music because I don't know anything that could consist of songs or anything like that. Though, lately I could see the small little changes around the house that most children wouldn't normally notice. Mum has been watching me closely, what I do. I can see the piano books sneaking their way onto the piano, the art supplies into my little desk in my room, she's so sweet it's nice to have someone pay attention to you after being alone for so long, even if it can get tiresome after a while.

She's tried to ask me subtly multiple times who the people in the pictures were. I never told her the truth, just said they were faces I'd see in my dreams. She'd accept that answer until she started noticing Phil's face, his older face, among my collection. She isn't stupid, far from it; any mother would be able to recognize their child, even many years older in a drawing. "Charlie how do you know Phil is going to look like that when he's older?"

I giggle whenever she asks this question, "Can't you see it in him mum? I bet you with the music he likes that is what he is going to look like."

She would always smile and ask again, "Yes but how do you know?" With that my face would zone out, remembering absolutely everything he and Dan would do in the future.

"I just do, Philly is going to do amazing things, help so many people, just you wait and see mum."

I don't think she ever quite believed me with that one, because of how silly my Philly is. How can someone who can barely keep himself alive save others. I bet you she thinks I mean he is going to be a police man or something. Haha imagine Phil trying to be a police man. I shake my head and focus on the piano book in front of me. In the months I've been here I've improved dramatically since practicing and drawing are basically all I can do. But at least it's progress.

Phil and Martyn weren't so observant with the pictures. Though Phil was very interested in Dan's pictures (snork) I think he was absolutely enthralled with Danny boy's face, I wonder if later he will remember the pictures when he meets Dan. That will be an uncomfortable story to explain if that is the case. What sucks for me is I have already drawn what exactly Dan looks like from 2009 all the way to 2016. Including the disaster that is his hair in 2011, bloody hell that was hard to draw. I was so tempted to make it look like it wasn't as bad as it actually was but that bothered me even more than the hair so I just drew it painfully. I couldn't help myself, you try waiting for thirteen years to do your job in full effect.

Now I was panting, just having woken up from a nightmare only this time I hadn't screamed once I woke. However I was having heaved panicked breaths, not wanting to close my eyes for fear that I would see it all over again. I quickly turn on my bedside lamp to rid the darkness from my room, sitting in my desk. I don't even know what time it could possibly be. Automatically my hand found a pencil and I was frantically scribbling away, the erratic movements making harsh sounds in the otherwise silent room.

I don't even know what I was drawing I was moving so fast from page to page, the moment I finished on one I would fling it behind me onto the floor. "Charlie? Darling what are you doing awake at this…hour." Dad's voice died at the end of his sentence and I stilled. Crap I forgot they would be asleep. His hands lightly held my shoulders turning me to face him. "Charlie, what are these drawings of?" I turned to pick one up, cringing as I instantly recognized the memory glaring me in the face.

"That's the day mommy died." I whispered, going back to my American accent remembering the horror. The gore had been so severe, but my mom's resilience lasted a while, far too long to have been humane. After killing the faded that was tearing at her, a task that took way too much ammo which is why I avoided it in general, I hid us and held my mother until her last breath. I spent the entire time silently crying, reinforcing hundreds of times how much I loved her and that I wouldn't let her go. Right before she died her blood soaked hand held my neck as she mouthed "I love you so much." With a final smile her last rattily breath escaped her and her eyes went glassy.

I remember staring stunned at her face, before starting to slightly shake her, "Mom? Momma no, mom no please! Please mommy please answer me! MOM!" I'm senselessly screaming for her now, not wanting to believe that my mom my one person I had left was actually dead. Sitting on the ground with her cold body in my lap I screamed an animalistic cry of absolute agony I couldn't feel anything apart from loss and death. I stayed there for hours, long after I lost my voice from screaming for her to answer me. Sobs still manage to escape as I rocked in place, clutching her upper body in my arms hoping against hope her heart would start beating again. But her face was still empty, pale and blue in death with smatterings of red from her own blood.

"Charlie!" Hearing mum and dad's panicked voiced ripped me out of the memory, and I could tell that like in the memory I had been screaming now. All those pages on the ground were exact replicas of that day, including one of me holding my mother while mid scream, my old self. I was on the ground mum and dad holding me trying to bring me back. I could see Martyn and Phil's terrified faces in my door way not knowing what to do since I wasn't even mentally there a few seconds ago.

"I just miss her…" I sniffled, not daring to look at the pages again.

I was fourteen, and it has been seven long years since I have written in this silly diary. I actually lost my diary so, there that's my excuse. The only reason I found it was I was too busy sobbing in my room trying to wallow in my misery. Why's that? Because Philly left for university today. I was all alone in this ginormous house and I could feel the lack of his presence in it. Both Martyn and Phil were gone and it all felt so empty. Now I see why mum told me to make other friends that weren't just my brothers. If I thought Martyn leaving was going to be bad, then I was wholly unprepared for how hard I was going to take Phil leaving. I was an absolute mess, tears running down my face, clutching him to me trying in vain not to let him go. In my mind I knew it was adamant that he go and get his degrees especially in video editing. Also he had to meet PJ and Chris, but I was choosing to be selfish because I didn't want him to go. "Charlie it's alright, you're going to be okay." He was trying to console me out of sheer desperation. "Charlie you know what? I'll skype you all the time, just give me a call you know I'll answer it!"

I raise my splotchy face to him, "Can I visit you?"

Mum piped up, "Phil how bout I bring her up on Saturdays whenever you're not busy, that way you two can still see each other in person."

Phil's face relaxed in visible relief, "Yeah Charlie how bout that skype and in person visits!"

I nod vigorously but then slump, "Would you really want me to visit you that often? What if you get annoyed at me?"

He giggled before hugging me tighter, "Charlie you are my little baby sister of course you annoy me sometimes but you are far too cute to be annoyed at for long." He tickled my sides forcing me to laugh against my will. "See? There's a smile! I'll be seeing you this Saturday alright chipmunk?"

"Phiiiiiiiil!" I say in exasperation, he always called me a chipmunk because my voice was really high when I was little, plus it is looking like I am not going to be very tall. This does not boad well with me because I used to be five foot six, a very respectable height. Now I might not get any taller than five feet tall. Needless to say I am extremely unhappy with this turn of events. But I am only fourteen (in this body) so I could hopefully please get taller.

I have found out the hard way that I really shouldn't cut my hair unless I was prepared for the repercussions, I had cut over a foot of it off and BLAM! My hair was suddenly curly. I don't know where it came from, but I was not prepared, I could hardly remember how my sister took care of her curly hair a good ten ish years ago.

I was in the lounge listlessly watching the television, aimlessly flipping the channels hoping to find something good on. Suddenly I shriek, "Mum! Dad! Look Philly's on the TV!"

I heard them running from the kitchen, "Honey what?" Mum asked breathless.

"Look he's on Weakest Link!" And sure enough there he was and the poor thing looks terrified. I am on the edge of my seat, suddenly much more interested in what the TV had to offer.

"Philip what exactly are you studying?" Anne Robinson asked Phil. Oh Phil I wish I was there to be a barrier to her harsh words.

"I am studying English language and Linguistics." He said a little shakily.

"Well obviously it isn't hairdressing." Anne said to him.

"Oh you did NOT say that to Philly!" I yelled at the TV.

"Charlie honey she can't hear you." Dad chastised me.

"I know dad but she's being mean to Phil!" I exclaim, hoping that they will understand where I'm coming from with my outrage. "I hate bullies, she's just one mean old bully nothing more nothing less." I glower turning back to the TV, missing the shared look between my parents.

They have had to deal with my injuries for years of bullies that hated my guts. Mum once found a piece of paper that I had used to write down just some of the real nasty stuff they have said to me. She was outraged at the pure hatred that was in the words. The thing is, people ask me what I did to get them to say these things and hurt me the way they do. I didn't do anything, not on purpose; I was quiet and just tried to stay in the shadows to be unnoticed by everyone. That never worked, I even wore monochrome things just to be less noticed than the others who were wearing bright colours. Oh well, whatever they said to me never stuck because I always had Phil by my side to fight those thoughts away.

"I hope Phil is next off, I hate students." Some guy who got voted the weakest link said.

"Yeah well I hate sore losers." I mutter. People are just aggravating to me. They are on the last round oh c'mon Philly! I mean I know that you get what is probably the most extremely coincidental question wrong but I can still have faith. "Llama Phil it's a llama c'mon Philly just say llama!" I say to the TV. I sigh when he didn't listen to my psychic aid, "He didn't say llama." Was all I muttered in dissapointment. For some reason mum and dad exploded in laughter and were clutching their sides from the force of their laughter.

A/N Thank you so much to quicktosee2 as well as Liana Sun for your kind words, it's what got yourself an upload. Still own nothing apart from my plot and angst, no surprise there. Reviews help keep my sorry butt motivated and thinking bout where this can go and if you feel this is worth knowing when I upload give this story a follow!


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